


Amethyst Eyes

by talesoffangirl



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Game, Reunion Fic, Spoilers, or Platonic Relationships, whichever floats your boat, you know the scene I'm talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesoffangirl/pseuds/talesoffangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been hard to see when he was dangling through a hole in the floor with the sun pelting down on him, and as soon as Sorey had pulled him up, he’d only gotten a split second to stare into those unmistakably recognizable amethyst eyes before he was pulled into a hug. Mikleo doesn’t look the same, he knows that, but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t really remember “old Mikleo” but somehow can tell that the sharpness to his eyes, the more defined structure of his cheekbones and jaw, and the length of his snowy white hair are all different. </p><p>But he’s still undeniably Mikleo, somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amethyst Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is probably the most commonly written scene of the entire game and I have shamelessly added myself to that bandwagon.

His mind feels hazy. The space where his memories should be is covered by a blanket of fog. Under that blanket is just a gap, and he isn’t sure how deep it is or how far it stretches. But despite the fact that he knows so much is missing from his head, there’s a sense of familiarity that overpowers him as he finds himself on the receiving end of a tight hug.

Mikleo smells like the salty brine of the sea. Mikleo smells like the damp earth after a fresh rain. Mikleo smells like summer days spent by the lake.

Mikleo smells like _home_. He doesn’t remember where or what home is, but he somehow just knows that Mikleo is it.

He hears a sob close to his ear, feels the body in his arms shake once. Sorey smiles and tightens his hold.

“Hey, Mikleo… C’mon.” An arm shifts around him, and he knows the seraph is wiping his cheeks on his sleeve.

“…Sorry.” Mikleo sounds composed even when he’s crying, and that’s familiar too and makes Sorey’s heart twist. “I just… I… Sorry…”

“Yeah, me too.” He pulls back enough to finally get a good look at the other’s face. It had been hard to see when he was dangling through a hole in the floor with the sun pelting down on him, and as soon as Sorey had pulled him up, he’d only gotten a split second to stare into those unmistakably recognizable amethyst eyes before he was pulled into a hug. Mikleo doesn’t look the same, he knows that, but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t really remember “old Mikleo” but somehow can tell that the sharpness to his eyes, the more defined structure of his cheekbones and jaw, and the length of his snowy white hair are all different. But he’s still undeniably Mikleo, somehow.

“Don’t be sorry.” Mikleo sniffs and wipes his face again, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. “You did what you needed to do—“

“Not that.” Sorey lifts a hand and sweeps his fingers through the fringe falling into the seraph’s face, the action almost instinctive, like he’s done it before, and he has a good feeling he has. The strands of ivory are soft beneath his touch. “I’m…sorry I took so long.” He isn’t sure just how long _long_ is supposed to be, but something tells him it wasn’t just a night of sleep, even if it felt that way to him.

The way Mikleo’s purple eyes shine at his apology offer all the support to his words that Sorey needs. “I told you I would wait for you.”

“I know.” He doesn’t really, but some feeling of intuition knows it’s true. “And I told you I’d come back… Didn’t I?”

The smallest of laughs escapes the other and grates against Sorey’s ears in the best way. “You did,” Mikleo assures him, like he understands the hesitance lurking underneath. “You did.” Sorey finds himself pulled into another hug, this time less urgent and more savoring. The salty scent of the sea and the damp smell of the earth and the fresh aroma of the lake hit him again and Sorey closes his eyes and just _breathes_. “I missed you.”

Sorey remembers. Everything about Mikleo is home and he knows it. He doesn’t know how and he doesn’t know where all these sudden memories of this seraph he shouldn’t know fit into the empty space in his head. But he somehow knows it doesn’t matter, at least not right now. He can go through and sort out what he does and does not remember later, when he and Mikleo aren’t curled up together on the floor of an abandoned ruin.

The former shepherd smiles.

“I missed you, too.”

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> This scene has been written countless times by several others and it has so many variations, but from what I've seen they're all from Mikleo's perspective. So I decided to go more along the lines of what Sorey might be feeling, having just woken up from hundreds of years of sleeping (and already helping someone out, the little cinnamon roll).


End file.
